


six times carlos drives seb, and the one time seb (tries to) drive carlos

by dashandlily



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Developing Relationship, Driving, Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Nonbinary Seb Matthew-Smith, Other, five times/one time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23974327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashandlily/pseuds/dashandlily
Summary: as the title states !! watch seblos’s relationship progress through car heart-to-hearts and so so much happy teasing
Relationships: Seb Matthew-Smith/Carlos Rodriguez
Comments: 32
Kudos: 49





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> some little logistical notes: everyone is a junior except ej even though only seb and carlos are actually in the story. carlos’s 17th birthday is mid august and seb’s 17th birthday is late december. we are 100% ignoring any and all of the logistical driving inaccuracies in this because i am not american and i’m not familiar with any of the driving laws there (for example i read you can’t drive with anyone but immediate family members for _six_ months after you first get your licence?? what kinda bs ??). 
> 
> also i realize now, as the story is done being written, that u can, in fact, get ur license at 16 and not 17 but for the sake of this story, the age to first get it is 17 bc i’m stupid and don’t want to age them down (literally just bc i like when they’re the same age as everyone else). thank u.
> 
> nb seb just as a treat, they’ve been out to everyone for a while 
> 
> there’s a little bit of spanish with carlos and his mother in a couple of chapters but it’s nothing too complicated. i don’t know how to add footnotes to link to translations but most of it should be easy to comprehend considering the context of the sentences. if you’re really having trouble, feel free to look up translations! (also for those of you who _do_ know spanish, i do not, so please don’t come for me over grammar or anything bc i don’t know any better)
> 
> **none of this fic contains any sort of triggers for car accidents or anything of the like, just thought i’d let y’all know in advance

“Ma, por favor, I beg of you—it’s _not_ that big of a deal. You really _don’t_ need to post to Facebook about how I got my licence so that basically all of the city back home can see—“

“Ah, but it is too late, perdón, mijo. But now everyone will get to find out how lovely of a driver you are, and how proud I am of you! And on your first try, too, mi amor! It’s amazing! Everyone should hear!” 

Carlos sighs and rolls his eyes as his mother wraps her arms around his shoulders. It’s a sunny, late-August day, and they’re standing next to one another in the parking lot of the driving examination centre. Carlos has—within just the past five minutes—parked the car, gotten his report and passing grade back, taken the papers for himself and has gotten multiple photos, smiling and holding up his achievement, next to his mother’s car—as per her own request. 

School starts in two days, and Carlos’s mother figured, at the beginning of the summer, that he should probably get his licence before the new school year started so he could get himself to school without her having to worry as much...or something. She’s probably just sick of driving him every day, but that’s, now, besides the point.

Okay, okay—so maybe he _is_ fairly proud of himself for passing his driving exam on the first try…

But he’d never admit it to his mother. And he _is_ kind of embarrassingly-upset that she posted it to Facebook, too. She has, like, three thousand friends on Facebook, and Carlos really doesn’t need this attention, does he? He doesn’t need the ego-boost. 

“Would you like to drive home?” 

“I’m fine, ma,” says Carlos as he walks around the car to the passenger side door and opens it. “I’ve gotta tell all of _my_ ten million friends what happened too, you know.” 

“Got’cha. Seatbelt please, Carlos.”

“’Course, mama.” 

As soon as they’re off, Carlos discards his new papers in the backseat and pulls out his phone—he’s basically only got one specific person on his mind that he really wants to tell this to, and he kind of can’t wait and keep it in any longer. 

_You will never believe what just happened!_

It takes only a few moments for them to respond—after all, a message from possibly their favourite person in the entire world is basically never one that they’d want to miss. 

_seb: ooh what happened?_

_I got my licence!_

Carlos is giddy just typing it. He can’t believe it—he’s a driving man now! 

_seb: omg really? i didn’t even know you were going for your licence_

_seb: congrats!_

_seb: when are you taking me on a drive? lol_

Carlos bites down on his lip. Obviously he’s excited to get to drive to school alone every day, but he’d sort of lying if he said he wasn’t incredibly excited for the opportunity to drive Seb around for the next few months until they can get theirs, too. 

_I didn’t tell anybody because I didn’t want to fail and have to tell everyone I told that I failed, lol_

_But I actually got it, first try!_

_My mom decided it’d be a good idea to post a photo of me next to her car to Facebook. Cue two hundred old Mexican friends of hers that haven’t seen me since I moved commenting that they’re proud of me lol_

_seb: well you know you could’ve told me_

_seb: but i don’t think you would’ve failed anyways_

_seb: like, would the examiner not feel super bad about failing you? i wouldn’t be able to, you’re so good!_

_seb: also that’s so cute, los! i bet they’re all super proud of you (like i am)_

Carlos grins, again, down at his phone. His mother looks over at him with a knowing smirk on her face. “Who are you texting, mijo?” 

“Nobody, ma.” 

“That smile doesn’t look like nobody to me.” 

Carlos pauses typing for a moment, looking up from his phone and over at his mother. “It’s really nobody important.” 

Ever since Carlos came out to her, just a couple of months ago, she’s tried her absolute best to make him feel as loved and accepted by her as she possibly could, considering their circumstances—not like it had...really been too much of a surprise, because she practically knew her son inside out, but _still_. She knew and recognized that her son probably had a fairly hard time growing up with just the two of them, and that it can take a lot of courage to come out about something that can be so sensitive—she really appreciated that he trusted her. Since he’d told her, they’ve become, arguably, even closer. 

Plus, Carlos seems much happier now—especially, like, _right now_.

All she wanted to do was let him know that sandy boys he may have his eye on are fine by her. 

“At least give me a name, cariño?” 

Carlos has long-since looked back down at his phone to finish typing his message to Seb so it didn’t look like he was typing a novel, but he still scoffs and shakes his head regardless. “I mean, I’m texting Seb, but they’re _not_ —like, a crush or anything, mama. You can relax.”

“Oh, yes! I think I remember him! He was in the musical last year, right, sweetheart? Blonde, your height, quite short? Why is he nobody important?” 

“Seb goes by _they_ , ma, not he, we’ve been over this—and yes, they were in the show. We’ve been _friends_ since last year,” Carlos says offhandedly, only really half-paying any mind to his mother. He’s smiling down at his phone—at Seb—again. He ignores her slight at their heights altogether. 

“Oh—right, lo siento, mijo. I forget. You should invite them over!”

“Why?” He asks. 

Carlos’s mother looks over at her son once again. “I think they have been a great friend to you, and I would love to get to meet them.” 

Carlos sputters as his mother suggests _meeting_ Seb. Jesus, that was awful fast! It’s not like he _likes_ Seb though, so, really, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?

“I—I mean, I guess I could.”

“Does Seb drive?” 

“Their birthday is in between Christmas and New Years. They’re not old enough to get their licence yet.” 

His mother only hums. Carlos looks over at her with his eyebrows furrowed together out of curiosity—and maybe a bit out of fear—because that hum never means anything good, and Carlos can basically deduct that exactly from years of experience with hearing it. 

“God, mama, qué es eso?” 

“Nada, mijo!” 

Carlos groans. “I don’t like them!” 

“I believe your words, cariño, but your smiling tells me otherwise. You should carpool with them to school. Get to know each other better.”

Carlos’s cheeks burn as his mother continues her short speech. Did she really have to suggest that? “Seb lives a half hour away from East High on a farm. I can’t carpool with them. And we know each other plenty well!” 

“That’s fine! I think it would be good for you, mijo! I know you have had some...trouble with finding your _group_ , por así decirlo, but the last year, you have found them and you have been much happier. If Seb makes you happy, you should drive with them to school. Maybe it will be fun for you.” 

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Carlos composes a short message to Seb. 

_This has nothing to do with our conversation anymore but my mom wants to know if you want me to drive you to school every morning? Not really sure why but she says the distance is fine, so if you want to, I guess?_

“Fine. I just asked.”

“Gracias, Carlos. Let me know what they say.”

Carlos breaths a short sigh of relief as their conversation winds to an end. He loves his mom to bits, and she was sort of his first real friend, but talking about Seb to her feels…weird. Private? He just wants to keep everything about him and Seb to himself—they make him happy, like, over-the-moon happy, and he’s never really had someone make him feel this way before. It’s not like it’s a crush—it’s definitely not—but is it a crime to want to keep it private? 

Geez.

_seb: really? you’d do that?_

_Of course I would_

_seb: not just because your mom is asking you if you want to?_

_No_

_It sounds like it could be fun_

_seb: okay then_

_seb: sure_

_seb: thank you <3_

_You’re welcome_

_7AM sharp on Tuesday morning?_

_seb: ill be there_

And thus, Miss Rodriguez’s operation-get-Carlos-his-man—wait, not man, person?—is ago.  
—  
Carlos isn’t exactly sure his mother realized just how difficult this drive would be for Carlos to make every day. 

First of all, okay, the farm is in _literally_ the middle-of-nowhere-Utahn-farmland, which…fine, it makes sense, in hindsight. Second of all, it’s gravel roads nearly have the drive out, which is nothing but annoying and bumpy and scary, and Carlos isn’t even that experienced of a driver! Lastly, it's going to be another half-hour back to the school. That’s an hour driving with Seb every single day, and two driving back and forth alone. They’re good friends, sure, but are they _that_ good of friends? Are they even going to have anything to talk about, or is it just going to be awkward pleasantries until Carlos turns the radio up loud enough to drown out his thoughts? 

Carlos wishes he would’ve thought this through a bit better—though he can’t rally back out now. Especially not considering he’s sitting in the driveway of Seb’s middle-of-nowhere-farmhouse, waiting for the person-in-question to be ready and come outside. 

They’re ready and walking down their driveway just past six-fifty, and they have that bright-Seb-smile on their face—one Carlos had missed dearly over the summer break (not like he’d admit it, though). 

“Seb!” Carlos exclaims, nearly as soon as Seb opens the passenger-side door of the vehicle. Seb slings their bag off of their shoulder as they wave goodbye to their mother and siblings in the front window of their house. 

“Los, hi! I’ve missed you so much!” They say, turning in their seat to face their friend. They’ve missed Carlos’s presence over the summer more than they’d care to admit—like, yeah, sure, they’ve texted basically nonstop the past two months, but it’s just not the same as seeing someone in person, right? “I’m actually really excited to get back to school. How are you? How are you feeling?” 

“We’ve texted, like, every day, Seb,” teases Carlos shortly, then shakes his head. “But I’ve, uh, I’ve missed you too. I’m not really that excited—like, it’s school, whatever.”

Seb frowns slightly. “It won’t be so bad. We’re upperclassmen now! Junior year? We basically dominate the school!”

Carlos rolls his eyes. “That’s the seniors,” he says, and then pauses for a moment. “What show do you think we’re doing this year? I’m hoping for… _Into the Woods_ , maybe? Or _Wicked_? What about _Hairspray_?” 

“Are you trying out for it this year?” Seb asks, their smile growing wider at the mention of all of the possible shows. “You should totally try out!”

“I’m not sure. I heard there’s a new teacher,” Carlos says, cocking his head to the side, and then shrugging a moment later. “Seatbelt, please!” 

Seb rolls their eyes as they reach back and grab the seatbelt, buckling it over their chest a moment later. “Happy now, mom?” 

“I am,” Carlos says, fully turning around in his seat to face Seb for the first time this morning. He notices they’re wearing a bit of eyeshadow and that they’re definitely wearing mascara, too. “Your makeup is cute,” he says, giving Seb a grin. “Very…chic?”

“Chic?” Is all Seb says back. “You’re kidding me.”

“I…” 

“Maybe these drives aren’t going to be as fun as I thought. This might actually end up being more of a nightmare.” 

Carlos finally turns the engine of the car back on and pulls out of the parkway a moment later. “It’s—I mean it’s very Seb, very you,” he says, huffing out a short, sheepish breath. “Sorry.” 

“Oh,” Seb says, their shoulders relaxing after a moment of pondering. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Carlos says, and now, they’re officially off. If Carlos is being honest—it’s kind of nice getting the chance to drive someone else aside from his mom, and getting to drive with Seb? It’s definitely a lot more cool-feeling, if anything. 

God, cool-feeling? Is Carlos feeling okay? 

“So, how do you think the new drama teacher is going to be?” Seb asks, grabbing their backpack from the floor of the car and opening it up, reaching in and grabbing their water bottle. They take a swig from it. “I hope she’s better than the old one.” 

“I hope she’s good,” Carlos says, leaning an arm against the drivers-side door. He’s already comfortable driving one-handed. He’s definitely pretty cool-feeling. “Or he. Or they. I just hope we get a good show, more than anything. I know a great show is nothing without a great director, but, like, imagine if we got, like, Scandalous or something. We deserve better than that. Yikes.” 

Seb smiles shortly to themself as they put their water bottle back in their bag. “Yeah, that’d kind of be an epic fail. Hopefully she—or he, or they—chooses something decent, though…I don’t think I really have the highest hopes. I don’t know.” 

“Why not? Aren’t you the epitome of positivity?” Carlos asks. 

“I have layers,” Seb jokes, giving Carlos a grin. “You don’t know me.”

“Oh, I don’t know you?” Carlos challenges, and Seb hums in affirmation. “I don’t know that you, like, love cartoons and hate telling people about it, or that you have a bunch of siblings at home and you family dinners every single Sunday with all of them, or that you secretly have a favourite cow in your barn, even though you tell them you love them all equally? I could even tell you _which_ cow!”

“Oh, yeah? Who is it, then?” 

“Ally.”

“Who’s she named after?”

“Aladdin.”

“Dammit,” Seb says, sighing dramatically in defeat. “Yeah. You know kind of everything about me.” 

“I knew it!” Says Carlos, grinning triumphantly. “I’m your biggest fan.”

“I guess you are, yeah.”


	2. two

It’s raining today in Salt Lake City, and it’s a Saturday—both of which make for really, _really_ shitty rehearsal days. Like, rehearsal will start ten minutes later than it was scheduled to because Miss Jenn will be late for some stupid reason or another, and literally nobody’s going to be in a good mood, except _maybe_ , like, Ashlyn, because she’s basically always in a good mood, but besides her, everyone’s just going to be tired and cranky and getting on each other’s absolute last nerve. 

Carlos is just about to leave the house to go to Seb’s and pick them up when he gets a text from them, claiming they’re probably not going to go to practice and that Carlos should just go to school without them.

Rolling his eyes at the message—because he knows Seb, and he knows Seb probably just doesn’t want to leave home today—Carlos sends a short message back, telling them that they’re in the car already on the way to their house, so they should just suck it up and get ready. 

And so, of course, Seb complies, because they can’t really say _no_ to Carlos, no matter how much they don’t feel like going to practice today—especially if he’s driving all the way out to pick them up. Carlos ends up showing up right when he says he does, and Seb begrudgingly calls out to their family that they’re leaving for practice, and that Carlos is here to drive them. 

When Seb runs outside from the door to the car to try and limit the amount of rain that falls on them, they’re met with a locked car door, and then an incredibly apologetic Carlos once he unlocks it. All Seb greets him with is a short, “Asshole,” and then sits silently for a moment before they say, then, “I don’t want to go to this stupid practice today.” 

“Yeah, I know, I’m the worst. Sucks to have responsibilities, doesn’t it?” Carlos starts the car and backs out of the driveway, giving Seb a small hum, refraining from responding until they were safely backed out and back onto the road. “Why not?”

“Because Nini and Ricky and E.J. are literally ruining _everything_ right now, and I don’t know how much more of their non-sense hetero-love-triangle-drama I can take.” 

Carlos nearly laughs at Seb’s bluntness, but then realizes quickly—damn, they _are_ kind of right, honestly. “I mean, I never really realized it, but yeah, I guess. Sometimes it does feel like they don’t really take the show seriously.”

“Yes, exactly! Like, Ricky only joined because he wanted his ex back, who he cheated on! And she cheated on him over the summer, too! Why on earth would it be a good idea for them to get back together?”

Carlos sneaks a glance over at Seb. They’re animated and passionate in a way Carlos has never seen them be before, considering the fact that they’ve never really seen Seb snap like this. “I hear you, Seb. Coming from a more…authoritative standpoint, I guess, it’s definitely kind of frustrating sometimes. Like, their rendition of _What I’ve Been Looking For_ the other day? Yikes.” 

“I love Nini, honest. She’s been a really good friend to me before and I really appreciate her, but the two guys—especially Ricky? I take this show so seriously because I want it to be _actually good_ , and yet he’s here as one of the two main leads, making a joke of the entire production? It’s so annoying.” 

Carlos looks over at Seb once again. “It’s okay,” he says finally. “Me and Miss Jenn both really appreciate your commitment and dedication to the show, though; it doesn’t go unnoticed. Especially ‘cause you’re both playing an _awesome_ lead character, _and_ you’re our lead rehearsal pianist. It really shows, Seb, we know how much you care about making the show as good as it can be, alright?” 

Seb’s shoulders slump forward as they gnaw on their bottom lip, presumably considering what Carlos has just told them. “I do really care about the show.”

“I know.”

“Good. ‘Cause Ricky Bowen _definitely_ doesn’t.” 

Carlos, for a third time, glances over at Seb—he's not really sure why he’s so drawn to looking at them today—and then suddenly _something_ all-encompassing washes over him, and it becomes all he can think about. 

At first, he doesn’t really know what it is—and then it dawns on him, all at once. 

What he’s feeling right now—it’s definitely a crush, he suddenly realizes—as if it’s plain as day (no matter how much he wishes it wasn’t). It’s everywhere, it’s this epically-all-consuming feeling when Carlos really—finally—realizes what’s going on. It’s in the way they agree on everything, all of the good and the bad and the stupid opinions they share, the way their voices seem to naturally harmonize together whenever they sing terrible Disney songs in the car on the way to school, the way they always look at each other for just a moment too long, the way they can complain to each other and never feel badly about it. It’s…everywhere.

“—los? Earth to Carlos?”

“What?” He asks, shaking his head free from his thoughts.

Jesus. He did not expect that revelation to come so… _abruptly_ to him. 

Dear God. He does _not_ need to deal with another crush right now. 

“What’s wrong?” Seb asks, voice teetering on suspicion. 

No—no. He does _not_ need this from Seb right now, either. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says finally. “I’m just trying to think out some blocking and choreo stuff, I guess. Uh, we’re blocking scenes eight and nine today, I think, and hopefully working on some new choreo. Just…a lot to get done today,” Carlos lies, and he’s pretty damn satisfied with how believable it was. 

Seb slumps back in their seat momentarily. “I’m sorry,” they say finally. “I…didn’t mean to complain so much if you’re having problems, too. I should’ve asked first.”

Okay, yeah—if Carlos hadn’t been certain of this crush two minutes ago, he’s definitely certain now. How could someone be so damn considerate? His…mind, or whatever, definitely picked the right person to crush on. “Hey, you didn’t do anything wrong, Seb,” he says softly. “It’s really not that bad.”

“Okay,” they say back, nodding slowly. 

“Honestly, though, I do agree with you regardless. They _have_ sort of been putting a damper on the show lately.”

Seb groans in their seat. “If we get into it again, I’m just going to end up ranting for the rest of the ride,” they say honestly, and then pause for a moment. “How _is_ choreo going?”

“It’s going as good as it can go, I think,” says Carlos, after a moment of contemplation. “I mean, I’ve definitely never choreographed a show before this year, but I think it’s going okay. Do…do you think I’m doing okay?” 

Seb nods quickly at their friend’s question. “Of course I think you’re doing okay, Los, you’re doing amazing,” they say shortly. Why would Carlos doubt himself, even for a second? He’s, like, the best choreographer and dancer Seb’s literally ever seen in their short sixteen years of life. 

Well, maybe aside from Gina, because she’s, like, a goddess or whatever, but still. 

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “Sometimes I kind of feel like nobody really listens to me, ‘cause I’m still a student like everybody else.”

“I listen to you, Los.” 

“A lot of the time, it kind of feels like you’re the only one.”

Seb gives Carlos a sympathetic smile. “Well, you _were_ still chosen to be the choreographer for a reason, weren’t you? Why don’t you talk to Miss Jenn and get her to give everybody a vague talk about, like, listening to authority and taking the show more seriously?” 

“She’s already stressed as it is,” says Carlos, shaking his head. “It’s fine. It’s not that bad. Everyone learns their choreo eventually—if they want to work towards a shitty show, that’s on them and not on me, you know?”

“True,” says Seb, but they groan a moment later. “I’m praying to every God I know of that that doesn’t have to happen, though. I don’t want to be the star of the show and outshine everybody, that’d be the worst!”

“I bet you think it would be!” Carlos says sarcastically, giving Seb a half-glare while he watches the road. Out of his peripheral vision, he catches a scowl show up on Seb’s face, and tries his best not to laugh at it. “You’ll blow everyone out of the water anyways, it’s fine. Don’t even worry about it.” 

“Yeah, I know I will.”


	3. three

“Do you have a ride home?”

Seb jumps at the sudden voice and turns around, shutting their phone off and pressing it against their chest. It’s nearing eleven-thirty and they’re waiting outside—well, they’re outside, they’re not really waiting for anyone to show up,honestly—and they’d expected everyone to be gone by now. The dance was over a half-hour ago. What was Carlos still doing here?

“Uh—well, sort of?” They say, but their voice does this sort of high infliction, and Carlos can tell Seb’s probably lying. “I messaged my mom a little while ago, but—“

“Okay. I’m driving you home,” says Carlos shortly, giving Seb a small grin. He turns over his shoulder and looks at the building. It’s almost all dark aside from the outside lights, and it’s getting rather cold. There’s only a few stray kids outside, still dressed up in their dance attire. He figures Seb probably shouldn’t be waiting out here in the dark, in the cold, regardless of whether or not they had a ride. 

The look on Seb’s face makes Carlos roll his eyes and reach his hand out, grabbing onto Seb’s forearm, still against their chest. “I’m serious. It’s not like I don’t drive to your house _at least_ once a day anyway, so it’s really not a big deal. I don’t want to leave you here alone.” 

And then something inside Seb’s chest sort of alights this huge, roaring flame, or this big storm of butterflies that’s suddenly gone rampant—yet they’ll admit it’s kind of actually in the absolute best way—it’s kind of dizzying, even—and they can’t help but agree to the offer. 

The pair stand together for maybe a moment too long, and Carlos’s hand is still holding Seb’s arm. It’s silent. Neither one of them make any effort to move. It’s a bit funny how the cold October chills have suddenly disappeared, if only for a moment or two. It’s like everything around them ceases to exist, at this exact, perfect moment. 

“I—uh, let’s go,” Carlos finally says after Seb’s phone buzzes in their hand. Seb looks down and sees it’s a notification from their mom, telling them that she’ll ask one of Seb’s older siblings if they can go pick them up because she needs to get to bed for work in the morning. Suddenly, Seb’s super grateful Carlos hadn’t left yet. “

The two of them walk to Carlos’s car in a sort of giddy-awkward-light silence, and neither of them are really sure what they should say to one another. On one hand, tonight was, like, the absolute best night ever, but on the other… 

It’s kind of awkward, now, though. Hopefully it won’t last. 

“So…your cow is okay?” Carlos asks as they walk side-by-side. They’re almost to the car. Seb never realized how cold it was. 

“She’s fine, yeah,” they say, humming and nodding at their friend—date? They couldn’t really tell right nos—in affirmation. “We just, like, _lost_ her. She didn’t die or anything, she just got away from the stable.”

Carlos nods. Not that he really knows the inside out of how a _cow_ could get lost on a farm. “I’m glad she’s okay.” 

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad you showed up, too,” says Carlos, but he didn’t really intend on saying it—that just sort of seems to be a common occurrence when he’s around Seb. He just…speaks his mind. It’s like that weird safe feeling Seb gives him…he’s not really sure. 

“I know it wasn’t for very long, but I had a lot of fun. You seemed like you did too.”

Finally, the pair arrive at Carlos’s car and he unlocks it, jogging around to the passenger side before Seb can make it. He opens the door for Seb, and then gives them a timid smile. “After you.”

“For what?” Seb asks suspiciously, hesitantly climbing into the car. Was this a prank? He’s never _opened Seb’s door for them_ before. That’s what, like, _princes_ do! 

Carlos closes it once Seb is safely in and jogs back around to the drivers side, opening his door and, likewise, getting in. Once he’s been in for a moment, Seb turns to him, still mildly baffled and confused. “You opened my door for me,” they say, though really as more of a fact than a question. “Why’d you open my door for me?” 

And suddenly this flood of nervous butterflies rushes into Carlos’s stomach, and he can’t turn and look Seb in the eye. “I—I mean, I sort of asked you to come to homecoming with me, I kind of thought…” 

“Oh— _oh_ ,” Seb says quietly to themself, and that’s when it really clicks. 

It’s really, _really_ not like they don’t like Carlos—because they do, God, they _do_ —but they had kind of been under the impression that Carlos just liked them, like, as a friend. They thought Carlos had asked them to the dance _as a friend_. 

“I’m sorry, I—“

“I like you.”

Carlos pauses. Like, really, actually freezes in his seat. He hadn’t expected Seb to like him back, quite frankly, and he _definitely_ hadn’t expected them to be so forward about it. 

“You do?” He finally says, shifting over and turning to look at Seb. 

“Yeah.”

“Uh—me too,” says Carlos, and he hears Seb breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Yeah?” 

Carlos nods, and then similar smiles spread across both of the teen’s faces. Okay. Okay—this is happening. _This is happening_!

Carlos starts the engine of the car and does up his seatbelt, motioning for Seb to do the same. They quickly comply, with shaking hands and a certainly racing heart. Suddenly, this whole driving thing has taken on a whole new meaning, they think. 

“I kind of thought, um, earlier, when you asked me, that it was just as friends,” Seb says out of the blue. The two of them have been driving in a comfortable silence, side by side, for at least ten or fifteen minutes with the radio up just-high-enough, the perfect middle ground where both of them like it best—it’s just another thing they agree on. “I never really thought that you’d like me.” 

“Well it definitely wasn’t _just_ as friends, idiot,” Carlos insults, but his voice implies there’s anything but insults there. “And I do. I kind of thought the other way around until you agreed to come, and then was sort of too scared to talk about it again.” 

“I get that now, stupid,” Seb teases back, sneaking over a look at Carlos for just a moment before turning back and watching the road. “I think I’ve liked you for forever. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Dumbass,” Carlos retorts, and then gives a soft smile to the road. God, he’s so happy. “My mom knew before I even did.” 

“Really? That’s _really_ embarrassing,” 

Carlos gives Seb a small, incoherent laugh. “I try to be vulnerable, and this is what I get?” 

“Yeah,” Seb says, and then shakes their head. “No. I’m kidding. I would’ve never had the courage to, uh—you know. Ask you out.” 

Carlos pauses for a moment. “Hm,” he hums. “That sounds kind of embarrassing to me.” 

“Okay, _dude_ , you know what? Maybe vulnerability isn’t our thing,” Seb teases back, giving Carlos a hit on the shoulder. 

“I— _dude_? Okay, way to ruin the mood,” says Carlos, rolling his eyes. 

“You too,” Seb says back, and then they both collapse into a fit of giggles. Carlos tries his best to keep himself stable, yet, because he didn’t really want to crash the car on this dark ass highway, but he sort of can’t help it. All of this—the whole night, all of these feelings—is proving to be a lot for Carlos to handle and keep inside. 

The ride is fairly quiet the rest of the way, but it’s certainly not an awkward silence by any means. The radio gets turned up again and they sing to nearly every song that comes on the radio until they finally arrive back at Seb’s house.

When they arrive, Seb makes no move to get out of Carlos’s car. They sort of don't want to leave him. 

“You’re home,” Carlos says once the car has been parked and shut off for at least twenty seconds. 

“I know,” Seb says. “I don’t want to leave.” 

Carlos swears he feels his heart stop. “You—you don’t want to go inside? Is something wrong?” 

“No, no,” they assure quickly, shaking their head and turning to face Carlos. They can’t really see him very well because it’s nearly midnight and all of the house and car lights are off—it kind of sucks, they want to look at him, if they’re being honest. “I don’t want to leave _you_ , dumbass.” 

Carlos gives Seb a little smile, though he knows they probably can’t see it. “Isn’t that cute?”

“I’ll go in—“

“Wait,” says Carlos quickly, urgently. “Don’t.”

“Don’t go in? You just told me I was home, Los,” Seb teases. They can tell Carlos seems slightly on edge, and they can only really think to chalk it up to what they’d talked about earlier in the car. Carlos doesn’t respond to Seb’s teasing, but instead shifts closer to Seb in his own seat. His heart is racing, and his hands are shaking ever-so-slightly, and he’s suddenly wondering how he actually managed to drive all the way down here without crashing the car. 

“I don’t want to make anything weird,” Carlos says finally. God, he really wants this—he wants the confidence that he usually exhibits so badly right now, but at the moment, he can’t seem to find an ounce of it in his body—it’s not anywhere. It’s totally gone. m

“You’re not making anything weird,” Seb says, staring across at Carlos’s eyes. Carlos isn’t looking back at him. Seb thinks they know what’s on Carlos’s mind, and quite honestly, it’s on theirs, too. Seb finally takes their hand and rests it on Carlos’s cheek, urging him to look up at Seb. They can’t help but feel a bit badly for Carlos, because they feel like they remember him admitting earlier that he had a lot of trouble simply asking Seb to the dance, and they’re really not sure if Carlos would ever…take the step Seb thinks he’s thinking about right now. “Nothing’s weird here.”

“I—yeah, good,” says Carlos, flicking his eyes up to finally meet Seb’s. He squints a bit—it’s hard to make out anything in the pitch darkness of the vehicle, and yet somehow, he feels like he can see Seb’s eyes clear as day. 

Seb leans over the console, seemingly without even controlling their own body, and they pause, just a few inches before Carlos’s face. “I—uh, are you okay with this?” They ask quietly, their voice hardly a tone above a whisper. When they’re met with essentially pure fear in Carlos’s eyes, they crack a small smile—clearly Carlos is way more nervous than Seb is. “I’m asking if I can kiss you, Los.” 

Carlos gives Seb a short, hesitant nod and then a breath of a smile. Once Seb’s gotten confirmation, they shut their eyes and close the gap between the two of them, then they breathe a sigh of relief. This is, honestly, sort of way easier than they thought it’d be. 

Carlos pulls away from Seb not even two seconds later, and a wave of panic washes over Seb’s body. Had they done something wrong already? “Los, I—“

“I’ve just never—um, I’ve never...kissed anybody before,” Carlos says quietly, his voice trailing off significantly towards the end of his statement, and then his face starts to burn dark. Relief floods Seb’s body as they register what Carlos actually says, and they kind of feel heat underneath their skin on Carlos’s face, thanks to their hand still resting on his cheek. They try their best to stop themself from smiling. 

They really like this boy. Like, _really_ like him, and that was kind of adorable of him to admit. 

“Yeah?” Seb asks quietly, and then they lean an inch closer to Carlos again. Carlos nods against Seb’s hand, and lets out a quiet, nervous laugh. They could probably hear Carlos’s heartbeat if they listened well enough. “Well, now you have. I’m honoured to be your first.”

“Have you? Um—kissed anybody, obviously, uh—“

“Yeah,” Seb says, cutting Carlos off—hopefully to save him from further rambling on and embarrassing himself. “I have.”

“Oh.”

“Is the mood ruined now?” They ask, and then both of them look back to each other, and then they giggle to one another. Seb finally drops their hand from Carlos’s face. 

Carlos groans, finally, “Is it weird that I kind of don’t want it to be?” He whispers, and then looks across, back at Seb.

“Not at all.” 

Both of them lean over the console and meet one another in the middle. A few seconds later, Seb can feel Carlos begin to smile against their lips, and they smile right back. They’re glad they’re doing _something_ right here. 

“Sorry if I’m bad at this,” Carlos mumbles as they finally part. “I just—“

“You’re not,” Seb says, reaching down and grabbing one of Carlos’s hands. They intertwine their fingers together—like, the couple way! “You’re good, Los. Not like I’m really a good judge of it, but…still. I think you’re good.”

Carlos reaches up with his free hand and presses his first two fingers to his lips. Seb only stares at him for a moment, puzzled. “I can’t believe I’ve kissed somebody.”

“Oh, yeah?” Seb giggles. “You’re a changed man, Carlos Rodriguez.” 

“Shut up.” Says Carlos, and then he pauses for a moment. Seb can tell he’s thinking, and they’re fairly certain they know what it’s about, too. “Okay—uh, before you go because it’s getting late super late, I’m pretty sure there’ll be no better time to ask you this so I’ll just say it. Uh, obviously we both like each other, like, a lot, and that— _that_ just, um, happened, so would you, maybe—“

“Of course I will.”

Carlos breathes an audible sigh of relief, yet still retorts with, “You don’t even know what I was going to ask you, idiot,” even though he knows he’s definitely wrong, and that Seb can definitely see right through him. 

“On a date?”

“Uh, well—it was _going_ to be if you…if you wanted _to_ date, but that, uh—works too.” 

“Well, the answer is yes to either question.”

“Okay,” Carlos says, and then he sighs another breath of relief. “Okay. I’m dating somebody? Wow. This—this is progress. It only took me seventeen years.”

Seb tilts their head to the side, a smile growing on their face. Carlos is the cutest fucking boy in the entire world. “Yeah, you are,” they say, and then glance at the clock. It’s nearly twelve-thirty already? “I should really get going—“

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Carlos says quickly. “So—“

“Yeah, whatever—it’s fine, Los. One more kiss?” 

If that statement alone wasn’t enough to absolutely sweep Carlos off his feet, he would probably never be. 

“Okay,” Carlos complies, and then they lean into one another, and kiss once more. Carlos could most _certainly_ get used to kissing Seb, especially if he’d feel these butterflies every time it happened. 

Seb’s the one to break off their final kiss, and they open the door a few moments after. Once the two of them adequately say goodnight, Carlos waits to make sure Seb gets safely inside their house before finally leaving.

God, his mom is going to absolutely _kill_ him for getting home so late, but honestly? He doesn’t care—not tonight, anyway.


	4. four

“I kind of can’t believe how crazy this show has been,” Carlos says suddenly. He turns the music down—it’s Ariana. Obviously. “Right now, we’re driving back to school so we can open our junior year fall musical. Isn’t that kind of insane? After this one, we only have three more shows left. It’s kind of sad.”

Seb looks over at Carlos and glares at him, and Carlos assumes it’s because of the music thing—or maybe it’s because he just reminded them of everything going on. Everything’s happened so fast since September, and Carlos figured this mostly-quiet drive would be a good time to take a moment and reflect on all of it. 

“I was jamming to that,” says Seb simply. “It was a good song.”

“What, you don’t want to talk to me?” Carlos scoffs. 

Seb scoffs right back. “Of course I want to talk to you, Los. I was just _also_ jamming out to that song. I love you, but I also love Ariana Grande.” They pause. “But yeah, I guess it’s sort of weird to think about. This has definitely been the best show I’ve ever been a part of.”

“Your first lead, babe,” Carlos says excitedly, glancing over at Seb a moment later. They don’t seem to appreciate his comment very much. “You should be more excited! You’re, like, literally the best person in the entire cast.” 

As Carlos speaks, Seb listens aptly. Obviously their boyfriend isn’t being truly honest when he says they’re the _best_ person in the entire cast, but it’s always nice to hear that you’re doing well, right? They just…it’s kind of hard to explain. It’s their first lead role, _ever_ , and they’re playing _Sharpay_ for God’s sake! It’s…it’s just kind of a lot of pressure, and they don’t want to mess anything up. 

“I _am_ excited, thank you very much,” they say shortly, jokingly hitting Carlos’s right arm with their left. “I’m just sort of scared, I guess.”

“For what?” Carlos asks slowly. 

“Of…I don’t know. Failing, or messing up? Not being a good enough Sharpay?”

Carlos scoffs—for real, this time. “You’ll get on that stage and you’ll absolutely blow everyone’s _minds_ , Seb! I promise. I’ve loved how you play your character since your audition—you’ve basically gotten Sharpay as good as anyone ever could. Maybe even better than Ashley herself—”

“Don’t even _think_ about comparing me to my _love_ , Ashley Tisdale. Nobody can touch her version of Sharpay. Maybe not even her, herself…” 

“You don’t think she’d be any good anymore? Jeez, Seb, that’s kind of rude…” 

“You know what I mean!” 

“I do,” says Carlos, and then their conversation falls in the air. It’s comfortable. 

Seb squints out at the road in front of them. “You know, you choreographed this entire show. That must be kind of nerve wracking, too, isn’t it?” 

Carlos shrugs. “Not really,” he says. “I’m not performing anything, I just put everything together behind the scenes. Nobody’ll know who choreographed it, you know? Plus, I’m not really a performer. That’s more your thing.”

“My thing?” Seb asks softly, then shifts in their seat to face their boyfriend. “What do you mean? Performing is nobody’s _thing_ , Los.” They say, and then pause. “Did you actually want to audition but thought you couldn’t?” 

Carlos quickly turns down that idea, “No, no! I would’ve if I wanted to, I promise. It’s just, like, you’re the performer and I’m the put-together-er. We work _together_ , you know? Instead of competing against one another. We don’t fight for roles or anything. I think that’s just another thing that makes us work.” 

Gnawing on the inside of their cheek, Seb finally hums in agreement. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Plus, I’m a damn good choreographer. Do you see how good our dance numbers look compared to the rest of the show?”

“Oh, I know—I just want you to be happy, in the position that’s best for you, and if that would’ve been, like, Troy or Chad or Ryan or whatever—“

“Troy? You’re insane.”

“Am not—you’d have killed Troy Bolton! Not that Ricky _isn’t_ good or anything, but I think _I’m_ allowed to say that I think you’re better than him, you know? Or even Gabriella!” 

Carlos laughs. “You’re crazy, Seb. But I promise that choreographer _is_ where I’m happiest—and Sharpay is where _you’re_ happiest—which, by the way, you’re going to kill at,” he says, glancing over at Seb and then back to the road.

“I hope so,” Seb says, shrugging.

“Can you believe we weren’t even dating at the beginning of all of this?” Asks Carlos suddenly. He sure seems to be full of questions tonight—though Seb supposes he doesn’t have much to worry about, not like Seb does, with their myriad of lines and multiple songs and crazy choreo that they’re beyond nervous about forgetting midway through the show. 

“It feels like we’ve been together for forever,” Seb says quietly. “I feel like I’ve known you for forever. It’s only been, like, a year and a half. Time flies, huh?”

“I’m way happier dating you,” Carlos spits out, almost as if he’d been hesitant to say it. “Sorry. Maybe that was weird to say.

“Nothing’s weird to say to me, Los.” 

Carlos hesitates for a moment. “I had put off realizing it was a crush for, like, _such_ a long time. Like, back during my birthday, even, I was trying to get rid of it ‘cause I was scared of ruining this, ruining us. My mom saw it before I did!”

“So I’ve heard,” says Seb, but Carlos only rolls his eyes and continues. 

“It’s so weird thinking that, like, at one time, not even that long ago, I would’ve given anything to not, like, _like_ you, or to not feel it, and now I’m just… kind of happier than I’ve ever been. With you,” Carlos admits. He keeps his eyes firmly trained on the road ahead of him, and doesn’t dare sneak a glance at Seb. All of that’s kind of embarrassing to admit to out loud, isn’t it? 

Seb coos at Carlos as he finishes his small soliloquy, and then turns to him and grins. “You’re not even looking at me at all.” 

“I’m driving, Seb!”

“I think that was the cutest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth,” they say finally. “Like, for real. You’re never usually so…vulnerable?” 

“I guess…I just feel more safe with you?” 

“You’re kind of the cutest ever, Carlos. I’m glad you feel safe with me.”

“That took a turn quickly,” Carlos coughs awkwardly, shaking his head at himself. “Enough vulnerability, this isn’t homecoming,” he says, then gasps silently, as he finally turns the last corner onto the road. “We’re here!” He exclaims as they pull into the parking lot. Damn—that was both the longest and shortest drive of Seb’s life. 

This is all becoming extraordinarily real—the show, opening night, Sharpay, everything. 

“Thanks, Los,” says Seb finally. Just a few short moments later, the two of them pull into a parking spot—the lot isn’t really full at all yet—it’s mostly just comprised of the familiar cars of their elbow peers in the show so far—considering there’s still two hours until they open doors, so they’re able to get a good parking spot. 

“I drive you every day, I feel like the ‘thanks’ is kind of given?”

“I mean for the pep talk and stuff.” 

“Don’t I give you those every day, too?”

Seb goes to unclasp their seatbelt but they pause for a moment, dramatically dropping their jaw. “Hey!” They exclaim, smacking Carlos’s arm closest to them. “Asshole. You do _not_ give me pep talks every day. I’m perfectly fine!” 

“Keep telling yourself that, babe.” 

“I will!” 

Carlos turns the engine of the car off just as Seb goes to unclasp their seatbelt, but he quickly shoots a hand over theirs to stop them. 

“What?” They ask, pausing in their tracks. “We need to go in!” 

“Nothing,” Carlos says after a moment, and then leans over the console—his own seatbelt straining against his neck and shoulder—to press a short, chaste kiss to his partner’s lips, muttering a short, “Yeah, in a minute,” against them. As Carlos pulls away, he leans his forehead against Seb’s, intertwining his fingers with theirs, still near the clasp of the seatbelt. They sit together, as close as can be considering their position, until Carlos speaks up once again. “You’re going to do amazing.” 

Seb grins at Carlos, staring dead into his eyes, his pupils blown wide considering the very small amount of space between the two of them. “Yeah, I know.” 

“Good,” says Carlos, and then he presses another, slightly longer kiss to Seb’s mouth. “I can’t wait to watch you tonight.”

“I kind of can't wait for _anything_ anymore tonight—it’s just hit me, everything that’s happening. Let’s go, let’s go!”   
—  
“That was amazing.” 

Carlos is right—it absolutely was. Amazing, that is. Seb’s been wearing this giddy, excitable grin since the bows first ended, and they’ve not been able to wipe it off of their face since. Getting to perform as a lead alongside some of their best friends in the entire world, getting to showcase the story that the entire cast has poured _months_ worth of blood, sweat and tears into…

It’s unreal to them. 

“I told you you’d kill it,” Carlos says once the two of them are safely situated back in his car. Seb’s mother and father (read: like, forty of his relatives taking up three entire rows worth of bleachers) had arrived and offered to drive them home, but after they saw Carlos, holding that beautiful bouquet of rainbow flowers for his partner, they figured they’d just let him drive them home tonight. 

Seb shoots a grin back at Carlos. “You killed it, too. I mean—your choreo was amazing. Did you not see that standing ovation you and Miss Jenn got? You were incredible!” 

Carlos rolls his eyes as he starts the car and pulls out of his parking spot momentarily. “I did see it, yeah. I think that was mostly for the actors though. Sharpay, especially.”

“I don’t—“ and then Seb’s caught off guard by a honk coming from another one of the cars in the parking lot, pulling out in front of Carlos and stopping, rolling down their window. It’s Ricky, Nini, Kourtney and Big Red piled into Ricky’s little, orange car. 

“Are you guys coming to the cast party?” Ricky shouts out the drivers-side window at Carlos and Seb. “It was just decided, like, five minutes ago. Follow my car if you’re coming!”

“Sure, thanks!” Carlos shouts, giving the vehicle in front of him a thumbs up, then motioning for Ricky to go. “Now go so I can get out!” 

Ricky rolls his eyes and closes his window, pulling out a moment later. Carlos follows behind him once he does. “Where do you think we’re going to go?” Seb asks slowly, wrinkling their nose up in distaste. “Cast parties are always so long. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay up until tomorrow morning, honestly.” 

“It’s Friday night, Seb,” says Carlos, rolling his eyes. “And I know you’ll regret it if you don’t go. They’ll probably give out, like, kudos and stuff to everyone. You don’t want to miss people saying good things about you, do you?”

Seb pauses for a moment. “Fine,” they conclude. “But we’re sitting next to each other if it’s Denny’s.” 

“We’ll sit together regardless, dummy.” 

“You’re the dummy, Carlos!” 

“Maybe I won’t sit next to you after all,” Carlos says finally, after a moment of pretend contemplation. “I’m not sure I want to associate with people who call me a dummy.” 

“I—“ Seb starts, sputtering. “You called me it first!”

“Uh huh?”

“Yeah!”

“Can you prove it?”

“I—“ they start, and then Seb is left silent. They can’t.

“That’s what I thought…dummy.”

“I swear—”


	5. five

_”Oh, shit.”_

As if it’s not obvious, Seb’s Monday is off to an already terrible start. As soon as they wake up—nearly an hour later than their alarm, mind you—they open their phone to complete their obligatory yet hazy morning scroll-through of Instagram, but they glance up, like they habitually do through half-open, tired eyes up at their battery, and then drop their phone down onto their bed, missing the time entirely. It’s at eighteen percent. They groan. 

_How_ could they have forgotten to plug their phone in last night? 

They lay in regretful silence for a moment until they reach over and grab their phone so they can plug it in—instead of getting to scroll on Instagram, even—and get at least a bit of charge for the day, and then they open it once again. 

This time, they check the clock.

Hence the, _“Oh, shit.”_

Seb leaps out of bed, muttering insignificant curse words under their breath, immediately rushing around their room in search of something quick to wear. They don’t have time to fool around this morning—

Wait—wait. _It’s six-fifty-five already!_ Carlos is already sitting outside! 

Seb’s anxiety skyrockets as they think about Carlos, and then grabs their phone and opens it for the already-third time this morning. Carlos had texted them their usual ‘good morning’ message ages ago when he woke up, and then his usual ‘I’m here’ one, less than five minutes ago. 

Shit. 

Seb grabs the first pair of pants and shirt they can find, and then runs over to their dresser and digs around for a clean pair of socks. They successfully find some, they hop as they put them each on a foot, and then they run back over to his bed, grabbing their phone, the charger from the wall (that did them no good last night), their backpack from the ground and, finally, their winter coat from the back of their desk chair.

Oh, God. They probably look like hell. 

A quick rush into the bathroom easily confirms that theory. Seb feels like they could burst into tears any second—having to rush to get ready is the worst thing in the world, and the fact that it’s a Monday, on top of all of this? Ugh. 

They turn on the tap and splash some cold water onto their face. They brush their hair out. They grab their toothbrush and brush their teeth—possibly faster than they ever have in their life. They feel mildly more calm once their teeth are brushed, at the very least. 

Seb rushes downstairs with their phone in their hand, backpack now slung over their shoulder and their jacket half-heartedly slung over their arm. It’s seven-oh-one. They’re already nearly ten minutes minutes late, and they haven’t even eaten or written a note explaining why their chores haven’t been done or let the dogs outside or put their winter gear on… 

As soon as Seb’s _finally_ ready and out the door, it’s nearly seven-ten and they hadn’t even _thought_ about messaging Carlos to let him know what had happened—they’d been in too much of a frenzy the past fifteen minutes for that thought to even have crossed their mind! Oh, God, and considering the fact that Carlos loses his shit over being even a minute or two late to _anything_...

Seb rushes out to lock the door behind them, calling out to their parents that they left a note and that they’d see them after school. They run out to the car, and they can already tell Carlos looks stressed beyond belief. 

They open the door and take off their bag, profusely apologizing as soon as the door is open. “I’m so sorry,” they say immediately, right as soon as they get in. “I slept so late, and then my phone was basically dead and I just—”

“You could’ve let me know,” Carlos retorts back quickly, then motions at Seb to shut their door and get their seatbelt on. He’s tense. “The drive to school is half an hour on a good day, Seb, and there’ll probably be no parking anywhere, either. You’ll be so lucky if we get there before the bell rings.” 

Seb does as instructed and sighs as they finally get comfortable enough to relax. Carlos backs out of the driveway. He’s sharp and calculated with every move he makes. He hasn’t made any effort to reach out and grab Seb’s hand like he usually does. 

“I’m really sorry, Los.” 

“Yeah,” says Carlos shortly. He’s now made his way onto the highway—it’s seven-thirteen—and he’s staring straight ahead.

Seb lets out a short sigh. This was going to be a long drive.   
—  
The drive, in fact, was probably one of the _actual_ longest-feeling drives of Seb’s life. The air between the two of them was unmistakably tense and it was clear Carlos didn’t want to talk to them this morning—which was fair, Seb eventually concludes. And it _is_ his fault, ultimately, even if he thinks maybe Carlos is overreacting just a little bit…? One of Carlos’s biggest things is when things get out of order or don’t go according to schedule, and he can’t stand when his routine is messed up, but still—Seb apologized this morning! 

Once they arrive at school—five minutes before the bell, surprisingly—Carlos parks and immediately gets out of the car (hardly paying mind to the fact that Seb has yet to even grab their bag) as if he couldn’t get away from Seb any faster. 

Shit. 

Thank God for the rest of their friends all having earlier birthdays than them, because, damn, they’re definitely going to need a ride home tonight. There’s no way Carlos is going to want to drive them home again.   
—  
For Seb, the whole day passes in a bit of a blur. They think about Carlos and how he’s doing during every single class they sit in. They wonder who they should get to drive them home—and they eventually settle on asking Nini and Kourtney (in the middle of fifth period, too, because it was stressing them out far too much) if they would be able to drive them home today because they’re pretty close to both of them, and they know it wouldn’t be too awkward. Of course, they both agree, but they tell Seb that they should probably talk to Carlos at some point, just to see how he’s doing. 

Once the final bell rings, Seb begrudgingly trudges to their locker to put their textbooks away so they can go find Nini and Kourtney. It’s not exactly as if they were dreading it, but they know that it’ll just be _so_ weird deviating from their normal schedule of driving with Carlos. They’ll miss it, even. 

Right as Seb pulls their phone out to message Nini, they get a text from Carlos—

Wait—it’s from Carlos. 

_los: I’m waiting outside for you when you’re ready_

They reread the message a few times over, and their heart definitely does that weird-little-fluttery-thing that it does when Seb gets really happy or really excited. They’re just… _so_ relieved that Carlos doesn’t hate them. 

Seb makes their way outside to the parking lot a few moments later, right after making sure they message Nini and tell her she’ll drive with Carlos instead. She sent something back, something along the lines of, ‘Okay, go get your man,’ but Seb just rolled their eyes at her message and booked it out to the car. When they arrive, they knock on the window and Carlos unlocks the door, to which Seb hesitantly opens it and removes their bag. 

“Hey,” they say quietly. They shut the door behind themself, but they make no move to fasten their seatbelt yet. “Um, look—“

“I’m sorry,” says Carlos, hardly before Seb can even get a word out. “I really overreacted this morning.”

Seb turns and looks at Carlos, a puzzled look on their face. Why is _he_ apologizing? _Seb_ is the one who slept in and nearly made them both late for school without messaging Carlos to let him know of anything. If anything, Carlos probably _under_ reacted. 

“I should be the one apologizing,” says Seb carefully. 

Carlos looks back at them, furrowing his eyebrows together. “What do you mean? It’s not really your fault you woke up late, I could’ve had a better reaction about it. Obviously you weren’t having a good morning, and I should’ve been better; I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you.” 

Seb cracks a smile. “I should’ve texted.”

”Yeah, you should’ve.” 

Seb rolls their eyes at Carlos, shaking their head. “I’m trying to apologize!”

Carlos only shrugs, mirroring his partner’s smile. “I’m kind of over it, honestly. I don’t like being mad at you. It’s so boring.” 

Seb laughs at Carlos’s reasoning, but ultimately agrees. “I just felt bad all day, I don’t know how you were _bored_?”

“It’s fine. Just maybe try to wake up at your alarm tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Uh huh, thanks, mom,” Seb says, but they reach over and grab Carlos’s free hand, bringing it up to their mouth and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Can we go for Starbucks and make it even?” 

“Obviously—but _I’m_ picking the music.” 

“You do every day, Los.” 

“I do not!”

Seb rolls their eyes as they fasten their seatbelt and adjust their backpack at their feet. “I’m not about to get into our second argument of the day, but okay. You can pick the music.”

“Just for that,” Carlos says, similarly strapping his seatbelt and turning on the engine, keeping the car in park, and reaching over to grab his phone. “I’ll just turn on some old Spanish music that you won’t even understand!”

Seb dramatically gasps. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Uh huh? Watch me.”


	6. six

“I need to take my car tonight.” 

Carlos’s mother looks up from her iPad at the table as she hears her son enter the kitchen. “Por qué?” She says, an inquisitive look on her face. She always asks that Carlos tell her where he’s going unless it’s for school or extracurriculars, and usually it’s not a big deal, but this is the third time within the past few days that he’s been abrupt and sudden about needing to leave. 

“I’m taking Seb out.” 

A pause is met with Carlos’s words, followed by a sigh. Ever since the night of homecoming when Carlos came home and spilled everything that had happened that night between him and Seb to his mother, she’s been trying to be as lenient when it comes to their relationship as possible. She wanted her son to be happy, of course, but…

“Mijo, finals start soon and you’ve been hanging out with Seb every day the past few days. You should probably stay home and study tonight.” 

Carlos stands tall, his arms crossed over his chest. Once he hears his mother suggest he stays home, he shoots her a mildly dirty look and drops his arms next to his sides. “Ma, I’m seventeen, I’m old enough to know when my finals are—and, besides, I thought you wanted me to have a good relationship! I can’t do that without going out and seeing them!” 

She finally shuts off her iPad and places it down on the table. “Cariño, I said no. Fin de la discusión.” 

“Why?” He asks, taking a step further into the kitchen. “I’m sure you went and saw all of your boyfriends every night when you were a teenager.” 

She raises her eyebrows. “Jamàs, Carlos, not in Mexico,” she says, giving him a small laugh of disbelief. “You are lucky you’re not a woman living there, or else I _really_ would never let you out.”

Carlos breaths a small sigh, and then forces down a groan. She’s probably right.

“Aùn, I’m sorry but I’m not letting you go out tonight. You have seen them enough. Seb is very understanding, they will be okay with you not going out for one night.” 

All Carlos does is roll his eyes and stomp away, right back to his bedroom. 

He’s seen them enough? Funny joke, ma. 

And—not going out tonight? Watch him. 

Carlos grabs his phone and checks the time. It’s six-thirty and he told Seb he’d be at their house for seven thirty, so he has a half hour to get all of his shit together and come up with an adequate plan to sneak out. 

As quietly as he can, Carlos puts together his backpack—namely grabbing his phone, his charger, his wallet, a hoodie, keys, whatever—and listens for his mother. He's guessing she’s back to her work on her iPad, and she’s probably not listening for his car anyway. Hopefully. Thank God the kitchen isn’t anywhere near the driveway. 

The clock on his phone reaches six-fifty, and Carlos knows he has to do this—it’s now or never—so he quietly opens the window and climbs through it. Sure, he’s shaking as if he hadn’t eaten in a week, but, like, it’s all for a greater good, obviously—to get to see Seb. 

He’s stood on the grass in their backyard for a few moments, dead silent, before he makes a move to shut his window and leave for good. Once he’s successfully completed his task without his mother hearing (because if she heard, she’d definitely come storming down and would never let him leave the house again), he walks around the house to the driveway and gets into his car. 

This was all…surprisingly easy. Maybe he should sneak out more often. 

It’s now six-fifty-seven, and Carlos has finally left the house—making absolute sure not to drive in front of it but to go the other way, just in case—and is on his way to see Seb. 

He’s so excited. All of this feels like it’s amped up to eleven when he realizes truly that what he's doing is, like, totally forbidden. Very totally forbidden. 

He doesn’t even get a message or a call or anything from his mom, which means he was totally successful, too. 

Carlos can't help but feel a bit proud of himself as he drives down the highway to Seb’s house—the one he’s driven down more times than he could probably ever count. He knows this drive like the back of his damn hand. 

By seven-thirty, Carlos has pulled up into Seb’s driveway and has messaged them. They come out only a few moments after Carlos pulls up. He kind of can’t wait to tell Seb what he just did.

“Hey,” says Seb once they open the door and get into the car. “What’s that look for?” They ask immediately. Something’s definitely off. “Oh—oh, God, what do you have with you? What’d you accidentally do this—“

“I snuck out.” 

Seb almost laughs. “Yeah, right.” 

“I did! My mom told me I wasn’t allowed to go out tonight, but I wasn’t about to cancel on you, so I snuck out of my window and came. My mom hasn’t noticed, either, ‘cause she hasn’t messaged or anything. When she does, my phone will be blowing up for _sure_.” 

“Damn, Carlos,” Seb says, raising their eyebrows and turning to their boyfriend. “I didn’t know I was into bad boys.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Carlos hums, similarly raising his eyebrows back at his partner. “Well, I guess you are tonight.” 

Seb can’t help but burst out laughing, this time, at Carlos’s response. They lean over the console a moment later, reaching a hand up to Carlos’s chin and pressing their lips to his for a moment. “Can’t believe you snuck out to see me,” they say after they pull away. “This is, like, some serious Romeo and Juliet type of shit here. Totally prohibited from seeing me, and yet you do anyway…”

“Yeah, you’re lucky,” says Carlos, pressing another kiss to his partner’s lips. Seb pulls away after just a moment, sputtering to Carlos and pointing up at their house. Carlos follows their horrified gaze and finger to the big, open window, and sees their mother and eldest sister standing together, watching, giggling to one another. 

“Oh, God,” they say, and then collapse back into the passenger seat, their cheeks and ears flushed with embarrassment. They hide their face in their hands. “Please, I beg you, drive away and never return me home.” 

Carlos giggles and gives their mother and sister a small wave, then watches them wave back, before he turns the car back on and pulls out of the driveway a moment later. “Your family is adorable,” Carlos says finally, once they’re properly on the road. 

“They’re _awful_!” Seb exclaims, throwing their hands in the air. “Like, who does that? Who just stands in the window and watches, you know—their kid—“

“Kiss their boyfriend? Yeah, Heaven forbid,” Carlos teases, and then he reaches down and grabs Seb’s left hand, sitting on their lap. “Hey, at least they know, though. Imagine if they didn’t know we were together.”

“That’d be, like, a whole new level of awkward, and then they’d want us to explain everything and your epic sneaking out ploy would’ve been ruined,” Seb says, assisting Carlos slightly by intertwining their fingers and letting their hands comfortably rest on the console in between the both of them. Seb will be honest—this, right here, is probably one of their favourite places to be. Sure, singing an epic solo on a big, empty stage is amazing, and they _love_ their bed, and the barn with all of their sweet animals, too, but sitting here in the passenger seat of their boyfriend’s car, holding hands over the console and listening to shitty pop music is…it’s bliss. 

“Nothing could have ruined me getting to sneak out. Where do you want to go?” Carlos asks. 

“I…don’t know. I wasn’t really sure what we were going to do tonight in the first place, considering all you told me when you dropped me off was, like, _be ready at seven thirty, I’ll be back here then!_ And so I followed your request and now we’re here.” 

Carlos rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, blame it all on me. Not like I’m not risking my life to be here with you and all.”

“Carlos, if you would’ve told me you weren’t allowed to go out tonight, I would’ve been fine with it.” 

“Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Starbucks?”

Seb raises their eyebrows and looks over at Carlos. “Will you get grounded if she finds out you’re not home?” 

Carlos gives Seb a short laugh. “Oh, a hundred percent. My mother is very intense sometimes, and will definitely get very angry,” he says, and then looks over at Seb, locking eyes with them for a moment before turning back on the road. “What’s that look for?” 

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” they say, similarly turning back and looking out at the road. “But you are _the_ hands-down dumbest person I’ve ever met. Seeing _me_ is so not worth you getting grounded for life! How will I get to see you if you get grounded? What’ll I _do_?!” They’re not being serious, per say, and their tone has nothing but lightness to it, but it _is_ true. They’ve heard of some of the punishments Carlos has gotten before for obscure little things, and they can’t imagine his mother going easy on him for sneaking out of the house to go out on a date. 

“I think seeing you is the _best_ reason to get grounded, if I’m being honest,” says Carlos defensively. “And I’m only going to get into trouble if I get caught. Grab my phone and check if she’s messaged me—it’s in the middle-thing.”

Seb wordlessly reaches down and grabs Carlos’s phone from the so-called-middle-thing in between the two of them and presses the home button. “Some Instagram and Snap stuff, but nothing from your mom. Congratulations, bad boy.”

“See? Nothing to worry about. Is Starbucks good for a first stop?” Carlos asks again, to which Seb hums happily. 

“Sure. Can I put on some actually good music?” 

“Yeah, my password is—“

“Oh-three-twenty-seven-twelve, I know.” 

Carlos glares over at Seb. “You are so annoying.” 

“It’s my birthday, Carlos. How would I forget your passcode when it’s _my_ own birthday?” 

Carlos doesn’t respond, so Seb takes it as a fair win. Momentarily, they’ve put on one of Carlos’s favourite playlists he’s ever made—which is basically just comprised of Broadway ballads and Beyoncé music, but it’s still his favourite (for good reason)—and Seb can tell, too, because Carlos lights up when they shuffle the compilation and he hears _Drunk in Love_ start over the stereo. 

“Turn it down and talk, or sing at the top of our lungs?” Seb asks, still holding Carlos’s phone in their hand. Carlos looks over at them, as if the answer was clear-as-day. 

The two of them blast the playlist and sing along to it until they finally arrive at the nearest Starbucks, giggling and harmonizing and singing all-too-many unnecessary riffs wherever they possibly can. When Seb has to turn down the volume so Carlos can order, they both pull sour faces—turning down _Mean Girls_ in the middle of _World Burn_ is, like, totally a hate crime…or something.

“Usual?” Is all Carlos asks, and Seb nods their head. Seb smiles quietly to themself—it’s kind of cute that Carlos has their order memorized, isn’t it? 

A few moments later, the two of them have their drinks—Carlos’s iced white chocolate mocha (which Seb thinks is a bit too extra) and Seb’s cold brew (which is apparently boring, according to Carlos)—and they’re good to play their music as they please once again. Finally. 

Seb goes to turn up the radio, and then they glance down at Carlos’s phone and grab it to change the song. When they turn it on, they see _Mom_ listed at the top of the screen, followed by nine or ten messages underneath her contact name, and they immediately let out a soft gasp. “Carlos,” they say urgently, trying to hold back their nervous laughter. “I think you’re in deep shit.”

“Oh, fuck,” says Carlos, and then makes a move to pull over as quickly as he can once he finds an appropriate spot. “You’re not kidding, are you?” He asks, parking as soon as he can. When all his partner does is shake their head, he feels his blood run cold. “Okay—okay. My mom _is_ scary, but she’s also kind of gullible? I’ll just—I’ll call her and tell her I had to come and pick you up ‘cause you were, like, stuck at school or something? You fought with your parents? I don’t know.”

“Yeah, tell her I was at school. I’ll come up with something on the spot.” 

Carlos shakes his head at himself, letting out a small laugh. Of course—and so early, too? They’d hardly gotten through a tenth of Carlos’s playlist! 

As he dials his mother’s number, the two of them make eye contact with one another, and Seb tries their best to not absolutely burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Ma,” Carlos says immediately, right after his mother picks up the phone. He turns the phone onto its speaker setting. “I—“

“Carlos, si no estás en casa—“ 

“Escucha!” Carlos says, cutting his mother off. “I would’ve told you sooner, but Seb and Nini got stuck at school together for some project thing, and Seb’s parents were going to drive them both home but they live really far away and couldn’t get there in time, and you didn’t really want me to abandon my friends at school, did you?” He spits out quickly. “I just took Nini home. I was going to drive Seb back but, again, their house is sort of really far away. I won’t be home in ten minutes.”

Carlos’s mother ponders quietly over the line for a moment. “Seb…él está en el auto?”

“Si, ma. Say hi if you want—in English.” 

“Hola, Seb,” she says next. “Is Carlos telling the truth?” 

Seb nearly smirks. Damn—the power they hold! “Yeah, of course he’s telling the truth. We didn’t want to wait outside ‘cause the school closed, and he lives really close to the school. I swear nothing’s going on. He feels really bad about leaving.” 

Carlos’s mother exhales a small, tired sigh. “Okay, mijo. I was very worried—I know you guys are boyfriends and all, and I just—“

“Mama,” Carlos warms. “We’ve been through this.” 

“Right—lo siento, Seb. _Partners_ ,” she emphasizes, and Seb gives Carlos a look, followed by a small, tentative smile. “I wanted to make sure this wasn’t just another date. You both have finals soon, mijas!” 

“We know, mom. I’m driving Seb home now. I’ll be home in an hour and a bit, okay?” 

“Okay. Te amo, mijo. Ser bueno.” 

“Te quiero,” he says, and then ends the call. Both of them burst into soft giggles as the line cuts to silence. 

“My mom is so gullible,” Carlos says finally, once they calm down well enough to properly speak. “It’s painfully easy to lie to her. She makes it too easy.” 

“That was adorable, though,” Seb says, locking eyes with Carlos and giggling all over again. “I love listening to you guys talk.” 

“Why?” Carlos asks, and then he reaches and turns on the car. Moments later, they’re back on the road, driving, and Carlos feels good enough to take a sip of his drink. “Damn—I’ll have to get rid of this before I get home, though.” 

“I don’t know,” Seb says, shrugging. “It’s cute. Your guys’s Spanish-English-hybrid-thing is adorable.” 

“She usually only talks in full Spanish when she’s angry—hence why she did right now at the beginning. It sort of adds emphasis, I guess? My Spanish isn’t as good as hers, though, so…I don’t know. I don’t know what she’s saying when she gets all up in arms in Spanish half the time.”

“I wish I could speak Spanish,” Seb says, resting back against their seat and grabbing their coffee, taking a short sip of it. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

Seb shrugs again. “I don’t know. It’s a really pretty language,” they say, and then they look over at Carlos. “And I only speak English. And…” they say, but trail off. They’re not so sure they want to say this. 

“And?”

“I kind of want to be able to talk to you in your native language too,” they say quickly. They really hope this isn’t weird.

Carlos can’t really describe the little fluttery-heart-thing that happens in his chest when Seb says it, but something definitely happens and it definitely makes him like Seb a great deal more—if that was even possible. Isn’t that the most precious thing in the entire world? God—God really made them perfect. In like—every single way ever.

He’s…he’s in love.

“Seb,” he says quietly, giving him a little laugh. “That’s really, like, actually really sweet of you? Nobody’s ever…uh, told me that before?” 

“I don’t know why,” they say, taking another sip of their coffee. After they see Carlos’s smile, they gain a bit of confidence. “I don’t think you really speak it with anyone but your mom, right? I don’t know. It’s just, like, a big part of you, and I don’t want to…ignore it, I guess?”

“You’re the cutest,” Carlos says, and he’s really quite certain that Seb starts blushing, despite the darkness surrounding them. “I’ll give you a lesson right now, if you’d like.”

“Sure?”

“Do you know what, uh, te amo means?” Carlos asks slowly, and then swallows down the lump in his throat. 

Seb shakes their head, but then it dawns on them a fraction of a moment later. Oh, _shit_. 

Suddenly their face heats up to a whole new shade of red, probably one never even seen yet, and they bite down on their lips to suppress a smile. “What does it mean?”

“It means I hate you,” Carlos says, then looks over at Seb.

Wait—what?

“Yeah?”

“Yep!”

“Well, te amo,” says Seb, rolling their eyes. They can’t believe—

“I…yeah. I love you, too.” 

Seb’s head snaps over to Carlos, and as they try to take a sip of their drink, they nearly choke on the swallow down. “Dude!”

“Yes?”

“You’re such an idiot,” they say, and then they realize that…probably wasn’t the best reaction, judging based on Carlos’s widened eyes. “But—uh, te amo. For real. Me too.” 

“Yeah?”

“Of course.”


	7. plus one

“Seb, you’re never going to guess what today is!”

“Gee, I wonder,” says Seb, rolling onto their stomach. They’re grinning ear-to-ear. The clock struck midnight only a handful of minutes ago and Carlos has taken it upon himself to call Seb as soon as he possibly could. “What’s today?” 

“It’s the day after boxing day! Isn’t that the most exciting thing ever?” 

Seb gives Carlos a play-groan of bitter disgust. “Ugh, I’ll hang up, Los. For real.” 

“I’m kidding—don’t hang up! Obviously I wanted to wish you a happy birthday!” 

The smile on Seb’s face hasn’t faltered even a little bit. They’ve never had someone call them at midnight on their birthday before. “Thank you, Los.”

“Of course, bub,” Carlos says sweetly, and then pauses to ponder for a moment. “What do you usually end up doing on your birthday?” 

Seb gives Carlos a mere, bitter laugh. “Uh, well—considering the fact that we have the biggest family ever to get together with on Christmas, we usually spend the entire rest of the week recovering from it all. We don’t usually do much.” 

Carlos hums in disappointment. “Can we go out and do something?” He asks softly.

“If my parents are cool with it, sure,” says Seb, and then they get an idea. They gasp, and Carlos can only brace himself with whatever their idea was. Sometimes…they can definitely go a bit overboard on, well…everything? “You can let me drive your car!”

“Seb, that’s an awful idea,” Carlos says immediately. “You are _not_ driving my car. You’d total it within five minutes. Not happening.”  
—  
Unfortunately for Carlos, he did not end up winning the fight, and so, on the morning of Seb’s seventeenth birthday, they beg Carlos to drive out to their farm so they could drive on the backroads. He can’t exactly say no when Seb FaceTimes him just to showcase their very convincing puppy-dog eyes and pouty lip. _”It’s my birthday,”_ they complained, and, _”I’d do it for you!”_

Yeah, he couldn’t exactly say no. 

It was reluctant, though. Very reluctant. 

When Carlos arrives and tells Seb he’s in front of their house, Seb nearly immediately comes barreling outside out of sheer excitement. 

“Happy birthday, Seb,” he says, nearly as soon as Seb opens the drivers side door. God, Carlos does _not_ want to leave this seat. “What do you need?”

Seb raises their eyebrows at him, and then momentarily squints their eyes. “I won’t crash your car. I watch you drive all the time! Please, Los? Pretty please?”

“You watch how I drive, or you stare at me while I just happen to be driving?” 

Seb’s face flushes. “The first one.” 

“Somehow, I don’t believe you?” 

“Shut up—come on, Los!”

Carlos reluctantly undoes his seatbelt and steps out of the car, earning a squeal of excitement from his partner. “If you even come close to crashing my car, though, Seb, I will _never_ let you drive it again.”

“Understood! I won’t, though, Carlos, do you really not trust me?” 

“Considering you’ve never driven before, no, not really.” 

Seb scoffs. “I’ve driven tractors and stuff. I have a bit of experience.”

“Not nearly enough—now get in before I regret this.” 

The two of them swap sides, and Carlos can’t help but feel strange at the change of them. He’s so used to having Seb sitting in the passenger seat, to his right, but now everything’s all different. 

Carlos tries to give Seb as good of a rundown of his car as he possibly can—namely gas, brakes, turn signals, mirrors. Seb asks about the radio as if they haven’t fiddled with it nearly every day since September.

Seb actually does a decent job given their experience, and they’re able to successfully back out of the driveway and make their way—slowly, like, five miles an hour slowly—to one of the backroads of their family farm. They do end up getting ever-so-slightly stressed at the amount of times they have to use their turn signal and the texture difference between the driveway and the roads versus the gravel, but it’s not too bad. They’re not thrown. 

At least, they’re not thrown until they get halfway down the road behind their house and suddenly slam on the breaks, probably shaving about ten years off of their boyfriend’s life. Seb tells him they swore they saw an animal, maybe a little dog or a squirrel, on the road, and they had to break before they hit it. Once calmed down enough, Carlos boots Seb back to the passenger seat. Yeah, they’re not driving anymore. 

Seb understands that it’s probably for the best, and Carlos drives them both back to Seb’s house. “Are you going to come in for a while?” They ask Carlos once they’ve arrived—safe and sound and in one piece, most notably, which is very important. 

“I can if you want me to,” he says, pulling out his phone and checking the time. “My mom wants me back by six, so I’ve got a few hours, yet. Don’t you have chores or something?”

“It’s my birthday, Los,” they say, shaking their head. “We have enough kids to cover my chores for a day, you don’t have to worry.” 

“Okay,” says Carlos, and then they both silently get out of the car and walk up the pathway together. Despite driving here every day to pick up and drop off his partner, Carlos hasn’t been inside their house very much. The odd time they’ll hang out at Seb’s house, but usually they quickly drive to Carlos’s after school and do their work (or hang out and kiss, but it’s basically the same difference, right?) instead of driving all the way out to Seb’s. Considering the fact that they have seven other siblings, all mostly younger than Seb, it’s usually very loud in their house, and they can’t exactly do any work efficiently in that kind of environment, can they? 

(Well, that and the fact that they’re always left alone at Carlos’s house to do as they please—his mother knows better.) 

“You can bring your jacket and stuff up to my bedroom,” Seb says once they enter the house. There’s kids hollering and running around as soon as the two of them walk in. Carlos finds it cute, honestly, considering he’s an only child, but Seb simply rolls their eyes and sends a half-assed glare to the den where they’re all making noise. “You’re so lucky your house is quiet all of the time—“

“Sebby!” Someone yells, and Seb can only mutter a short, “ _oh, God_ ”, before their youngest brother comes running into the foyer and crashing into his sibling’s legs. “Happy birthday, happy birthday!” 

“Thank you,” they say, glancing up and over at Carlos. He’s already made his way to the staircase where Seb’s room is situated at the top of. “Save me,” they mouth dramatically to Carlos, but all their boyfriend does is put his hands up in surrender and feigns a laugh towards the little boy, attached at Seb’s legs. “Okay, okay—I’m going upstairs. Go see mom and dad.”

Seb is set free a moment later, and they make sure to make a beeline to their bedroom so they’re not caught up with any more of their little siblings. Once the both of them have safely made their way to Seb’s bedroom, they shut the door behind them and Seb makes sure to lock it. They’d really rather not deal with all of their siblings on their birthday of all days—no matter how much they love them. 

“You can put your jacket wherever,” Seb says, unzipping their own jacket, shrugging it off of their shoulders and motioning around their room. Considering the size of their family and the amount of bedrooms they have in the house, Seb’s room really isn’t very big at all. They’ve basically got a bed, a desk, a dresser with a television on top of it and a keyboard, and that’s, like, it. It kind of sucks, maybe, but it’s really not that bad. It’s homey. “You know what we should do?”

Carlos cocks an eyebrow up at Seb as he shrugs his own winter coat off of his shoulders and drapes it over the back of their desk chair. “That doesn’t sound very promising.”

“Mario Kart!” They exclaim. motioning to their television with their hand. “I’m not going to almost crash your car on here. I’m way better at Mario Kart than I am at real-life driving.” 

Carlos takes a seat on Seb’s bed, looking up at them as if they have two heads. “You’re really going to bring that up so soon? Damn, Seb. You’re ballsy.”

“Asshole. Do you want to play or not?”

“Of course I do. I’m going to absolutely annihilate you, though. I’m good as Hell at this game.” 

Seb rolls their eyes. They don’t believe that for a second. 

As they start up the game and grab a controller for the both of them, Seb situates themself right next to Carlos on their bed. As the game starts up, they finally look over at their boyfriend and give him as sweet of a smile as they can. “You’re going down, Rodriguez.” 

“Uh huh, Rodriguez.”

It takes Seb a moment to realize what Carlos has just said, but once they do, their face flushes red. “I, uh—“

“Sorry, maybe that was weird—“

“I think it sounds really nice.” 

Carlos suppresses a smile. 

“Okay, who do you usually play as?” 

“Obviously Peach,” Carlos says, grabbing one of the controllers from Seb’s hand. “She’s the best character.”

“You’re wrong,” says Seb, rolling their eyes. “It’s obviously Yoshi.”

“Lame,” says Carlos. “ _Everyone_ mains as Yoshi.”

“You mean Princess Peach?”

Carlos, in turn, rolls his eyes back. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah—oh, yes! Which course first?”

Carlos ponders a moment. “ _Rainbow Road_?”

“Oh, so you’re gay _and_ basic? Got it.”

Carlos has to really refrain from smacking Seb. 

The first course—Rainbow Road—goes by in a mad frenzy of cursing, insults, side checking and way too many blue shells. The results on the leaderboard are so far Seb in first, and Carlos in third, to which Carlos _really_ has to refrain from smacking Seb over. Obviously his partner can’t help but sabotage him whenever they get the chance!

The next two courses go by nearly the exact same way, which leads Carlos to give up. because obviously Seb wasn’t lying when they say they were really good. “I hate you,” he says. “I can’t believe you weren't lying.” 

All Seb can do is retort back with a scowl. “I have seven siblings, dumbass. I know how to play Mario Kart. You’ve probably played with computers your whole life.” 

Carlos can only glare at Seb when they say that. 

“Hey, maybe I can’t drive, but, like, I can win first place in Mario Kart on any given track. Which one is _really_ superior, in the end? Anyone can learn to drive. It takes real skill to get good at Mario Kart.” 

“Right, but driving is actually useful in the real world, Seb.”

Seb shuts off their television once they’ve both sufficiently lost interest in the game. They’ve put both Switch controllers away on their nightstand, and have rearranged themselves on their bed, right up against the headboard. They motion for Carlos to come up with them. 

“I don’t think I can sit next to a traitor, Seb.” 

Seb reaches out and grabs their boyfriend’s hand, pulling his arm closer to themself. “Come on, Los. It’s my birthday…”

Carlos gnaws on his lip suspiciously, and then slumps his shoulders over when he sees Seb’s face. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday.”

“I know,” says Seb, and they shift over on the bed to make room for Carlos to sit next to them. They don’t let go of his hand. “Hurry up.”

“I’m coming,” Carlos says, crawling up the bed and finally relaxing once he’s reached the headboard. The two of them adjust into one another for a moment, and they end up cuddling, half-laying against the wall behind Seb’s bed, facing one another. They’re holding hands. 

Seb is lying significantly lower than Carlos is, so they listen in the silence with their head up for a moment before relaxing and resting their head on Carlos’s chest. They lay in pure silence, but it’s not awkward. It’s good. It’s peaceful.

“I’m glad you came over,” Seb says quietly. It’s all muffled into Carlos’s big hoodie, but he manages to make it out fine. “And I’m glad you let me drive your car.” 

“You better have savoured it, ‘cause it’s never happening again. I’m still driving us from now on. Like, forever.” 

“Yeah—that’s probably a good call.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you stuck around for this whole thing, i appreciate you so so unbelievably much — you don’t have to interact or anything, but you simply reading and enjoying it makes my heart go 💓🥰🦋✨💘

**Author's Note:**

> there will be a new chapter of this every day for the next week until it’s complete (it’s all prewritten !!)
> 
> my tumblr is andimackthemacktheseries, i’m not too active on tumblr these days but i’m much more active on twitter (user is the same as this one). i’d love to hear what y’all thought, whether on here or anywhere else !! thank u for reading <33


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